Carolyn
The first time I met Carolyn, she reached her hand up to my face, wiped away a single tear, and licked it off her slender finger. Now I've tasted you, she said. A year later we lay together in her bed, the sheets and blankets tangled between our legs, both of us sleepy and hot from drinking a stolen bottle of gin, and I felt melted and sweet like ice cream in the summer. She pushed herself on top of me and gasped when we kissed and said, I'm so wet, Riain, I'm so wet, do something, but I didn't know what to say. When she slid my panties off in the dark, her fingers hot against my skin, I turned away and pretended to be asleep. She got a boyfriend after that and wrote me a tear-stained letter about not wanting to be friends anymore; at the time I thought she was bored with me but I guess he just did what I wouldn't.
Morgan
Morgan was a year younger than me and tiny and beautiful like a hummingbird, with a voice that always sounded like she was just waking up. She came to spend the night in my dorm room and was sleeping on the floor. She crawled up into bed with me and touched my face, and said, Is this okay? I touched her back and then we were kissing and sighing and we both kept saying things like, I never knew it could be like this, is this what it's like to make love with a girl? We peeled each other's shirts off and giggled because it felt so good and she said, You're so warm and soft. Her skin glistened and made me think of apricots and summer. She made me lie on my stomach, and traced words on my back with her tiny mouth, my name and hers and other things she liked to say. I liked licking her neck the best, my tongue darting across her downy skin, my hand against the small of her back. We held hands in public and brought each other flowers and made out at parties and rolled around together on my bed or hers, bodies intertwined. That summer I met a professor and asked Morgan if I could go on one date, just to see. She told me I could, but afterwards she said that she had tried so hard not to care that now she didn't. It had worked too well, she said, and now there was nothing that I could do.
Tara
Tara wore her curly brown hair in braids and pigtails and had a furry laugh that drove me crazy. I spent an entire summer with her and my boyfriend Zach, wandering the streets and reading each other's poetry and ransacking the common areas for cigarette money. We got a bottle of red wine from somewhere and all went back to my room. Tara kissed me, her eyes closed, her mouth hot and tart and hungry, and then I watched as she turned to Zach and reached for his mouth. I watched them kiss, and felt something open deep inside me when he touched her jaw, tilting her head in order to nibble at her better. They kissed open mouthed so that I could see their tongues licking at each other. They leaned into each other, arms around each other's necks, kneeling on the bed, so I crawled under the circle of their arms and curled up against Zach's chest. While they made out, I undid Tara's braids and tangled my hands in her hair. She laughed deep into Zach's throat and looked down at me. She pushed us backwards until we were both pinned against the bed. She said, Now two are three, and we stayed a threesome for the rest of the summer.
Annie
Annie breezed into the bookstore I worked at, in a hurry to find something, with flowers in her hair and in the basket of her bicycle. Her eyes flashed and sang when she smiled at me. I helped her find her book and got tingly when she touched my hand in thanks. Three days later she came back, this time with flowers for me, and an invitation to dinner. She was so beautiful that I was afraid to touch her. At dinner we drank red cocktails that tasted like Popsicles and fed each other bites of risotto, and when we walked back towards my apartment she slid her hand along my back like I was hers. In the foyer of my building, she pushed me up against the wall and breathed into my ear. I want to fuck you, she whispered, I want to see you come, and I felt dizzy, I wanted her so much. We twisted and twined against the wall, her hands in my hair and on my face, my head spinning. I wedged my thigh between her legs, holding her hips, and she moaned into my mouth. In my bed she leaned over me, her breath sweet, and caught her breath when she pushed up my skirt. She fucked me with two fingers and then three, resting on one elbow as she watched me contort under her, nuzzling at my neck. When I came for the third time she said, Want to do it to me? but I was already floating away, and she laughed into my ear and let me curl into her as I fell asleep.
Emma
I met Emma at a party I went to with this guy she didn't like. She went around to everybody she knew and said, I'll give you this bright shiny quarter if you'll make him stop touching her! I'd go over to her house and we'd sit up all night with her roommates, watching TV with the sound off and drinking kamikazes. Then Emma met Noah, tall and rough edged and gorgeous, with green eyes and a crooked smile. One day she said, Come home with me. Noah was waiting outside. Emma smoked cigarettes one after another and watched Noah, her eyes bright. They took me inside and stretched me out on the bed, my wrists held tight in Emma's lap, Noah pulling off my jeans. Let's shave her, he said, looking past me towards Emma, who nodded. I knew that she was nervous, her hands clutching at mine. She pulled me halfway up into her lap as he shaved me, her hands in my hair. The razor was cold against my skin, but Emma wrapped herself around me, her chin buried in my shoulder, her cheek against my ear. When I was shaved clean he looked up at her again and then pushed a finger into my pussy. I gasped and she said, You'll let me do anything to you, won't you, and I nodded, feeling a sudden chill as he slid another finger into me. Emma pulled my hair, hard, and whispered, You're my little doll, my little girl to fuck, even if I let him do it, and then she made me repeat it to her, my voice low and faltering. To him she said, Fuck her, if you want, and with a sideways grin he calmly thrust into me. I made an unholy sound and pushed myself against him, trying to get his cock in deeper. Emma tightened her grip on my hair and said, That's me fucking you, and then she didn't say anything more, just bit her lip, her eyes closed and her expression too beautiful, her hands clenching and unclenching in my hair.
